


Possessive

by XerotoXero



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23018065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XerotoXero/pseuds/XerotoXero
Summary: Charles is possessive and he's well aware of this. It's been a while since he was possessive of a person though.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young
Comments: 3
Kudos: 214





	Possessive

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this was just an excuse to try my hand at porn. And also I love this series, so... enjoy?

Charles was self-aware enough to know that he had always been possessive. It probably stemmed from being the middle child of a not very well off family. He and his siblings had to share everything, which made him covetous of things he considered just his.

His ex-wife had told him it was cute when he saw other men looking at her and stared them down, or chased them off. Apparently, he was not as good at it as he thought though.

He tried to keep himself from getting so attached to another person. So it came as a shock when he went into the office one morning to see Samara talking animatedly to a man that seemed vaguely familiar. She was gesturing out something, and the man gently pried a branded Styrofoam cup from her hands so that she could do so without spilling whatever was in it, looking at her fondly when he did so.

What brought Charles up short was the vicious snarl of  _ ‘Mine!’ _ that rang out in his mind when he saw that. His sudden pause seemed to catch Samara’s eye, though, and her expression dropped into a more polite (less personal) cheerfulness. “Good morning, Charles. I’ll be with you in just a moment.” She called before seamlessly turning back to the other man.

The man laughed at something she said and Charles grit his teeth and walked swiftly to his own office to wait for  _ his _ secretary.

Sam took her sweet time, though, and was still smiling when she walked into his office nearly 10 minutes later bearing a mug of coffee she set in front of Charles and a stack of folders. She took her notebook off the top of the pile and flipped it open, biting her lip as she read down the list she prepared.

Charles just watched as she set it back on the desk and took up the ‘power pose’ without prompting. He used her distraction with the book to look over her outfit of the day. Sam had admitted that the pink haired whirling dervish of a woman that Ben was dating had basically tossed out all the clothes Sam deemed work appropriate and dragged her shopping. And the woman had a much better eye for clothes that suited Samara, Charles admitted to himself. Today was a dark green collared button up shirt and a form fitting pencil skirt. Her hair was swept up simply, leaving her neck temptingly bare.

He stopped that thought there and stomped ruthlessly on it.

“You may begin, Miss Young.”

“Oh! Uh… I like that… I can still look you in the eye.” She smiled, her cheeks dusting pink. But before he could say anything, she launched into his scheduled tasks and meetings for the day.

Charles already knew his schedule, but attentively listened to her anyway. Mostly.

“So… who was that gentleman you were talking to earlier? We don’t usually allow social calls in the office.” He tried to keep his tone teasing.

Samara looked up from her agenda frowning slightly in confusion, then her face lit up. “Oh! That was Link. He works at a coffee shop near here part time, and I forgot my coffee there this morning. He just brought it here because it’s on his way to his second job. Actually, don’t you remember? I introduced the two of you at the hospital.”

“So he is a friend then?”

“Mm hmm. I’ve known him forever. Now if we don’t hurry, we won’t be as insanely early to the staff meeting as you like to be.” She turned to leave. There was something red on the back of her neck that he hadn’t seen before, round and reddish.

A hickey. Charles stared at it as Samara made her way back to her own office, the sight of it like a punch to the gut. Someone else’s claim. Probably that Link’s, if he had to guess.

He did remember meeting the other man now, first at Samara’s apartment building as one of the EMTs that arrived at the scene then at the hospital later. Sam had gone home with him.

More than a friend then. It was fine. Much as his possessiveness would like to disagree, Samara did not belong to him.

Something insidious inside him whispered,  _ ‘But she could. It would be so easy, a brush of the hand here, a compliment there… And she would be aaaaaall yours. Remember how much she wanted you just a few weeks ago? She still does.’ _

Charles quashed that voice forcefully and went about his day. If he was more distracted and abrupt with people that normal, no one said anything. Though he did catch Samara looking at him in confusion more than once.

When he signed the last new proposal for the Charles was surprised to look up and notice that the sky outside his windows was dark, and the office was eerily silent. He sat back in his chair with a sigh, giving in to the urge to run his hands over his face and through his hair. Then a light under his door caught his eye. Followed by a soft knock.

“Charles,” Sam called through the wood, “May I come in?”

His hair was a mess, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen him less than polished. And why did he care how he looked to her? “You may.” He called back.

She stood silhouetted in the doorway and he felt his breath catch for a moment. He was more composed by the time that she had taken the seat opposite his across the desk, and Charles waited but Samara just stared at him with serious, dark eyes.

“Yes?” He prompted.

He wondered why she was not already home. Or on a date with Link seeing as it was Friday night. He bit back a scowl at the thought.

“Are you okay, Charles?” Sam asked after another moment. “It’s just… you seemed to be in a really bad mood today.”

Charles winced slightly. His personal life and hang ups should never be visible in his work demeanor in his opinion. “It’s nothing, just… didn’t sleep well.”

Sam’s expression softened. “Okay, if that’s all…” She didn’t sound like she really believed him, but would accept his lie at face value.

For some reason her complacency pissed him off. “Is that why you stayed so late tonight, Miss Young?” He growled. The woman looked taken aback by his tone, and began fidgeting.

“Well, no. I was just finishing up my paperwork. I… uh… I think I missed the last bus of the evening. But I’ll just call someone to pick me up!” She said hastily, waving her hands. Already one of them was reaching for her cell phone. So eager to get away from him.

Link, probably. Link would come pick her up, and he would take her home, and he would be unburdened enough to follow this beautiful woman into her apartment. Divest her of that dress. Lay her down across the bed.

Charles felt sick with anger. He snapped the last folder closed and stood abruptly. “There is no need.  _ I  _ will take you home.”

Sam was back on her feet too, prey instinct kicking in and sending her backing slowly to the door as he prowled forward. “I-uh- no- I can get a ride- please you don’t have to- oof.” Her back was pressed to the closed door, Charles looming over her. The man didn’t know what he was doing, he was just so irritated at the thought of someone else’s hands on her. On  _ his  _ Samara.

Who was looking up at him with confused, fear filled eyes. And that’s what snapped him back to himself. “Oh.” He said, all of the air getting knocked out of him. This time he was the one backing up until he was sitting on his desk putting some distance between them. “Samara, I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. You may want to step out and make that call for a ride.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes again, and when he removed them he found Sam closer, not quite in arm’s reach and staring at him with her arms crossed.

Honestly while he found her bouts of new found confidence charming and amusing, this was not the sort of time he wanted her to stand her ground. But the jut of her chin told him that he would be hard pressed to dissuade her. “Charles. What is the matter? You’ve been distant and moody all day and then, just now-“ She blushed and shook her head. Her shoulders slumped after he didn’t answer, and she turned away. “I’ll just… go make that call. Have a good night, Charles.”

“What is on your neck?” He couldn’t stop himself any more than he could have earlier.

Samara paused with her back turned and a hand on the door knob, but she turned back with confusion on her face. “My… neck?” She reached up to rub over it.

“On the back of your neck, there’s a… red mark.” He grit out. He wasn’t going to back down after getting the question out.

Realization lit Sam’s face. “Oh! That. Well…” She reached back to rub over the spot. The blush she was sporting did not help him calm down. “Well, I um… I was trying to curl my hair this morning. Monika said I should try something new with it and loaned me a curler, but I’ve never had one, and I burned myself.”

“You burned yourself. With a hair curler.” Charles said flatly. Then he just started laughing, deep gasping laughs that left his sides hurting. Samara crossed her arms again, looking upset.

“Just because I don’t know how to work a hair curler doesn’t mean you can make fun of me!” She pouted.

“No no, it’s not that. It’s just…” He got up again, and this time as he walked towards her his steps were leisurely. But the end result was the same, with Sam pressed up against the door and Charles boxing her in. He reached out a hand and ran it over where he knew the burn was, and now he could feel the raised quality of it that set it apart from a hickey. “I’ve been obsessing over it all day, thinking of who could have left it there. I’ve been terribly jealous, Samara.” He murmured.

Sam’s face was entirely red, her eyes huge. “J-jealous?”

He hmm-ed an affirmative, enraptured by the soft feel of the skin under his fingers. “I think you’ve been teasing me with it, Samara. Trying to make me angry.” He didn’t, Sam wouldn’t ever be that duplicitous.

She shook her head frantically, breath speeding up. “I didn’t even know it was there! I mean, I knew I burned myself but-“ She sighed, leaning into the caress and closing her eyes. “If anyone’s teasing, it’s you.”

“I can’t help. You look so good when you’re flustered.” He pressed his body closer to hers. “Samara, I want to make what’s happening here very clear. And also, what kind of man I am. Can we sit down?”

Sam opened her eyes again, the pupils huge. “Um, okay. What kind of man you are? What kind of man are you, Charles?”

The man sighed, and sat back down on the desk as Sam settled into the chair in front of him. “Samara, I want you. I want to make you mine. It’s been driving me crazy these last few weeks. But I don’t know if you know what that means.”

Sam’s mouth moved to the side thoughtfully. “I’m going to assume you don’t just mean you want to date.” She offers tentatively.

“Not quite, but that is part of it. Have you ever heard of dominance and submission?”

“Oh!  _ Oh. _ Um… I mean, kind of? Like in that one book that came out a few years ago?”

“ _ Please  _ tell me you didn’t read that drivel.”

Samara laughs slightly. “No, my roommates told me I should but I was too busy developing Ruminate and working on my degree to have the time.”

Charles sighed. “Good, that book is an example of an abusive relationship that masquerades as the ideal Dom/sub relationship. And an example of horrible writing. The only thing it’s good for is kindling.” He was cut off by Sam’s merry laughter.

“Tell me how you really feel, Charles.” She said, still laughing. He chuckled a bit too.

The atmosphere got serious again, and he sat forward to cup her chin in his hand. “Samara, I think you would make a wonderful submissive. I think it would help your self-confidence, too. But believe me when I say that this is not at all selfless of me. I want you under my hands, my mouth, my  _ control _ . You would of course set the boundaries, the limits. The power would be yours. How does that sound to you?”

“Overwhelming.” Sam answered honestly, breathing heavily.

He swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, watched her tongue follow the movement. “How about this, we can start small, and you can tell me if you think it’s too much. Do you want to try?” The silence rang out for a few moments. “Samara?”

“I-I’m thinking. I don’t want you to accuse me of letting… things other than my head make my decisions. And th-that’s not helping.” She was talking about his thumb, which he was still rubbing back and forth over her lip. Charles held up both his hands away from her, grinning. She took a few minutes, as if thoroughly weighing the pros and cons, before finally nodding. “I think… I think I’d like to try it. But um… I’ve never even…” She was truly flustered now, face entirely red and fidgeting in her chair.

_ ‘Never even-‘  _ Charles’ mind echoed gleefully.  _ ‘Saved it just for you.’ _

Well, she had admitted to being ‘vestal’, he just hadn’t taken her literally at the time. He took both of her hands in his, pulling her up to stand between his legs. “Do you trust me, Samara?”

“Yes.” That did not take time to decide upon he noted in satisfaction.

“Good. I will take care of you. Your only job right now will be to enjoy yourself. But first, I think a punishment for teasing.”

“I said I wasn’t teasing-“ She huffed, but he put a finger over her mouth.

When she stopped glaring, he smiled. “Bend over the desk, Samara, and lift up your skirt.”

He stood off to the side to watch her hover over the decision, hesitating. If she wasn’t comfortable with this level, they wouldn’t be compatible in the end. But she did it, pulling the skirt up with a little bit of struggle and bending over the desk, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. Trusting him with it. The panties she wore under the skirt were nothing special, little pink lacy things that looked more Walmart than Victoria’s Secret, but he could fix that. He liked getting his subs pretty things to wear for him.

Charles came up behind her, slotting his hips against hers and letting Samara feel how excited he was getting. Getting her used to the idea. He bent over her back, fitting his body to hers so he could whisper in her ear. “I am going to spank you, Samara. 5 times. I want you to count them out loud for me. Can you do that?” Sam nodded wordlessly. “Good girl.” He praised, noting how her breath stuttered before he pulled away. “If you lose count, we start again.” He warned before bringing his hand down on her pretty backside. He modulated it so that the strike was more sound than pain.

“Ah!” Sam cried out, jolting against the desk. Her hands tightened on the other side.

“How many was that, Samara?”

“O-one.”

Another smack, this one a bit more painful. “Two.” was gasped out before he struck again.

Three and four came in rapid succession, Sam dutifully sobbing out the count. He would suspect that she wasn’t enjoying it if it weren’t for the fact that he could see a widening damp patch on her pale pink panties. Five was satisfying in that it left her trembling and whimpering needily. Charles gathered her into his arms, rubbing the red handprints he left behind soothingly. “You did very good. Good girl.” He said, wiping away the tears. “I think you deserve a treat, don’t you darling?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, just swept her up until she was perched on the desk facing forward and he was standing between her legs. Then he fell upon her like a starving man. Charles usually had no interest in kissing, but kissing Samara was different. He could feel her learning with every stroke of his tongue over hers, could taste her gasps when he bit the lip she so often abused. Her arms wound around his neck. When she pulled away to gasp for breath, Charles nibbled his way down her neck, then paused thoughtfully where the collar of her shirt stopped him.

“Samara, why don’t you open your shirt for me, take off your bra, then pull your shirt back up your arms?” He instructed, pulling back.

Sam blinked dazedly at him before bringing trembling hands to the buttons of her shirt. Each new thing brought a wash of shyness to her, but she would soon be the perfect sub for him with no shame. He could tell.

One by one the buttons popped open, revealing a bra to match the panties. Her chest was heaving as she looked to him for approval at revealing more of her body. He didn’t say anything, just stared steadily as she did as she was told, pulling off her bra and then settling the shirt back on her shoulders.

Only then did Charles move forward, cupping her generous breasts in his hands as he kissed her. “Beautiful. You’re being so good for me.” He praised, and Samara shivered.

“Charles, please…” She gasped. She probably didn’t even know what she was asking for, but he kissed her soundly again.

“All in good time, darling. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” His thumbs brushed over her nipples, and Sam moaned involuntarily. When he bent to close his mouth over one of them she arched into it with a cry. “So sensitive. I wonder where else you’re sensitive.”

“D-don’t tease, Charles, please.” Sam had her arms thrown back behind her on the desk for balance. Perfect. He wrapped his hand in the forgotten shirt, trapping her arms at the small of her back.

“Keep them here unless I tell you otherwise, alright?” He instructed, and Samara nodded. The position left her chest even more thrust out, and he began to explore. Brushing gentle fingers on the sensitive bottom of her breast and the trembling area where her slightly soft stomach met her skirt. Following every movement with his mouth. When he’d had his fill of that for now, Samara wasn’t even shaking anymore, just staring at him, letting him do as he wished. Every now and then when he moved over a particularly good spot, she let out a huffing mewl.

“Samara, tell me what you want next.”

That brought her fully back to herself. “Uh… um… p-please. Lower?” She asked.

Charles smirked, and began kissing his way up her ankle. “Here?”

Her eyes met his momentarily before darting away. “You know that’s not what I meant.” She told him.

“You’re going to have to tell me where you meant, darling.”

It was obvious that she did not want to say it. But Samara had to learn how to articulate what she wanted, both here and in everyday life.

She found a way around it though, opening her legs more and looking down pointedly. “Here.” She tried.

Well now she was just asking for a challenge. Charles settled himself so that he was between her thighs, leaning forward as if he was going to grant her request before diverting to mouth and bite along her inner thighs instead. While they were an erogenous zone, it obviously wasn’t what Sam wanted and she writhed on the desk in displeasure. “Charles please. I don’t- I can’t say it. Please.”

“Oh!” He took pity on her. “You mean here?” He asked, rubbing a finger over the soaked panties between the folds.

“Yes, oh God, yes, please, Charles.”

She was going to start having a Pavlovian response to Samara saying his name. He just knew it.

Setting the thought aside, he hooked a finger into the leg hole of her panties and drew them to the side, surprised to find her bare. But he wasn’t letting himself get distracted from his goal, and focused. “Now there are a few terms for this,” He murmured conversationally over Sam’s sobbing breaths, “I find myself rather fond of calling it a pussy in this sort of situation, of course, uncouth though it is. And you have such a pretty one, Miss Young.” He leaned in to run the flat of his tongue over her clit. Sam’s legs spasmed around his head, and draped themselves down his back to pull him closer.

He set to work with a single mindedness. No one could say that Charles was not well versed in this particular task, licking and sucking liberally, thrusting his tongue in and out of her hole before swirling it around her clit. He could barely hear her cries over the blood pumping in his ears.

When he finally brought up one hand to thrust two fingers inside of her, that was it for Sam, her body juddering and shaking apart. “Oh oh oh oh  _ Charles _ !” She cried, having laid down on the desk, her back arched and her arms still trapped behind her back. He gentled her through it until her panting breaths slowed down, and took time to admire his handiwork. Samara looked utterly debauched, her skirt hiked up to her midsection and shirt trapping her arms. Her hair had fallen out of it’s up-do and was mussed around her crown. The flush on her face spread down her chest beautifully.

“Such a good girl for me, Samara. Look at you.” He said, helping her sit back up and gently freeing her arms from behind her back and massaging the feeling back into them.

Sam blinked owlishly at him, still shaking with the occasional aftershock before looking down between them. “W-what about you?” She asked, eyes on the tenting of his fly.

He leaned forward, drawing her into a biting kiss. When he pulled back, he finally said. “I would love to fuck you, Samara. Right here, right now. But I don’t want you to regret losing your virginity on my desk and not in a proper bed surrounded by rose petals and candles like you deserve.”

Sam closed her eyes and bit her lip. “I- I want that too. I could never regret this.”

“Are you sure? I can wait until we get to a bed.” He told her.

Then she said something that he knew he was quickly becoming weak to. “Please Charles. Please f-f-fuck me.”

Well, he could never turn down a lady. He pulled his wallet quickly out of his slacks and flipped it open, pulling out a foil packet. He usually kept three in it just in case. He was not looking to become a father with one of the woman he usually shared a bed with.

He could see it with Samara though, in the future. And that much faith in a future with any woman scared him.

“Charles?” Sam called, getting his attention, and he focused.

“I’m sorry bunty, I was just thinking. Do you want to try putting this on me?” He offered her the packet, and Sam eyed it.

“But… what if I mess up and rip it?”

“Well then we’ll have 2 more tries until we’ll have to run to a drug store.” He answered with amusement. Mollified, Samara opened the packet then waited expectantly.

Charles gingerly opened his fly and pulled his cock out of the slit in his boxer briefs. Samara stared at it in fascination. Her hands hovered between them for a moment, the condom forgotten on the desk beside her. “May I?” She asked, looking at him from beneath her lashes. This was going to be torture, Charles knew, but to feel those soft hands on his skin was too good to turn down so he nodded.

Sam dropped down to the ground from the desk until she was eye level with his cock. One hand formed a ring that she ran down the length, tightening and loosening it in turns. Charles’ head dropped back and he groaned lowly.

“Oh! It’s soft.” He heard her say through the swimming in his head. She was going to be the death of him. And then she did something he did not expect, with a thoughtful look on her face Samara leaned forward and closed her mouth around the head, tongue lapping at the pre-cum it was dripping.

“Fuck! Samara.” He buried his hands in her hair to ground himself. It was far from the most skillful blowjob he’d ever received, but the fact that he could look down and see Samara’s eyes looking back at him nearly pushed him straight to the edge. Her head bobbed down, down… all the way down. What the fuck. She managed to bob her head a few more times before he pulled her away. “If you keep doing that, I am going to cum down your throat, and while that would be very pleasant, I think we have a different goal for right now.” He tried to sound nonchalant, but he was truly struggling.

Samara blinked guilelessly up at him. “Maybe later then.” She decided with a nod. “I want to try that again.”

He pressed their foreheads together weakly. “And I won’t stop you next time. But unless you would like to end this experience right now, I need to be inside you.”

“O-oh. Nnn.” Sam shivered, nodding. “Alright.” She reached blindly behind her, groping for the condom while he distracted himself by turning his attention to her breasts again, pinching and pulling at her nipples. The hand on his cock nearly caught him by surprise, but Sam pulled slightly away to concentrate on what she was doing. The condom slid on, lubed by her saliva. “That was easier than I expected.” She said before he surged forward, pinning her to the desk.

“This is your last chance not to lose your virginity here, Samara, bent over nice and pretty on my desk.” Charles growled.

“I’ve made my decision, Charles.” Sam answered, her eyes trusting and one hand coming up to caress his cheek. She allowed him to turn her around and bend her over in the same position that she had taken at the beginning. Had it only been less than half an hour ago? He could still see his handprints, stark red against the milky white of her skin. He positioned the tip of his cock at his entrance.

Charles was going to take it slow, give Samara time to get used to it, but the little minx stole that decision from him when she felt the head brush against her. Her hips flexed back, seeking, and he plunged into her unprepared.

The heat of her, the feel of her, it was all so overwhelming. “Oh darling,” He groaned into her shoulder. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet. My little toy.” He thrust in again as she gasped out. “I’m going to fuck you so good, fill you up. Mark you up and keep you. Starting here.” He bent over her, continuing to fuck away at her sweet little pussy and closed his mouth over the burn that had started them there, sucking and biting at it, pining Sam there and keeping her helpless to fight against it. Not that she was fighting. Especially when he reached a hand down to rub at her clit at the same time he thrust.

“Look at you, such a slut but just for me. Only mine. Isn’t that right darling?”

“Y-yes, just yours.” Samara answered.

“I wonder how many orgasms I can make you have in one night, darling. So much pleasure it becomes pain. You won’t know whether to try to get away or get closer. Fuck you with my cock and toys until you’re begging for me to stop.”

She was getting close again, he could feel her pulsing around him. She was reduced to chanting his name while he muffled his own cries against her skin. His other hand drifted up from her hip and into her hair again, pulling tight.

That seemed to be enough, Sam sobbing and shaking through her second orgasm. Her walls clamped tight around his cock, giving him no choice but to follow her over the edge.

They lay gasping, draped over the desk together until Charles had enough energy to pull himself out and away from her. If Samara looked debauched before, she looked well fucked now, her own wetness glistening on her thighs, hair a disaster, face streaked with tears.

“Oh, my beautiful girl, you did so well for me. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He gently wiped at her thighs, noting with satisfaction a lack of blood. His streak of meanness made him rub his fingers over her clit one last time, but she was too tired to even react more than a twitch of the hips. He helped her straighten her clothes back out, but they decided that the hairstyle was a lost cause. “Why don’t I get you home, darling. We can talk there.”

Samara seemed to be coming back to herself with every moment, grabbing her bra from where she dropped it and turning away. “Will you… stay the night?” She asked quietly, back turned to him.

“It would be my pleasure, bunty.” He said, laying a gentle kiss on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her.

The possessive side of him saw the new mark that he had made on the back of her neck and purred in contentment.


End file.
